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Updated: May 10, 2025
Remember that if you need any help I will give it you willingly. I love to be of service. And I don't wish any harm to befall you." "You are very kind, monsieur," was all Rouletabille replied, and he called again for champagne. Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who concerned herself with her meal and had little answer for him.
Gounsovski, the good fellow, may be a great lump of fat and be like an umbrella merchant, but I have always been grateful to him from the bottom of my heart, you can understand, Athanase Georgevitch." "What reputation has Prince Galitch at the court?" inquired Rouletabille all at once. "Oh, oh!" laughed the others. "Since he went so openly to visit Tolstoi he doesn't go to the court any more."
"I was returning from Balakani in a drojki," said Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, "and I was drawing near Bakou after having seen the debris of my oil shafts that had been burned by the Tartars, when I met Gounsovski in the road, who, with two of his friends, found themselves badly off with one of the wheels of their carriage broken. I stopped.
They have done so many little favors for this one and that, here and there, that no one wishes to do them the least injury. Each person always thinks, too, that others have been less well served than he. That is the secret of the thing, my friends, that is the secret. What do you say?" The others said: "Ah, ah, the good Gounsovski. He knows. He knows. Certainly, accept his supper.
Finally, at six o'clock in the evening of the second day, a man in a frock-coat, with a false astrakhan collar, came in and handed the concierge a letter for Joseph Rouletabille. The reporter jumped up. Before the man was out the door he had torn open the letter and read it. The letter was not from Natacha. It was from Gounsovski.
Gounsovski is right and he certainly is well-informed; his system is decidedly a good one. What a net-full!" He hardly breathed as he watched the outcome. He could discern elsewhere, beside the bay, flat on the ground, concealed by the slightest elevation of the soil, other false moujiks. The wood of Sestroriesk was watched in the same way.
"Pardon, pardon," said Gounsovski, smiling softly behind his goggles; "it is not the same thing." "No, no, it is not the same thing," seconded the lady with the black silk, brilliant jewels and flabby chin. "We speak here to a friend in the course of dinner-talk, to a friend who is not of the police. We never denounce anybody." "We must tell you.
"Eh," replied Gounsovski, "I let you know that all you had to do was to take a fine apartment in the city." Annouchka spat on the ground like a teamster, and Gounsovski from yellow turned green. "But why did you hide yourself that way, Annouchka?" asked Onoto as she caressed the beautiful tresses of the singer. "You know I had been condemned to death, and then pardoned.
"The police never have been able to prevent what was bound to happen. But, speaking of this Priemkof, it remains between us, eh? Between just us?" "Yes, we must tell you now," Gounsovski slipped in softly, "that it will be much better not to let Koupriane know that you got the information from me. Because then, you understand, he would not believe you; or, rather, he would not believe me.
"Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and come to tell me to-morrow if you will believe in her always," replied Gounsovski, confidentially, with a horrid sort of laugh that made the reporter hurry down the stairs. And now here was Priemkof to look after! Priemkof after Matiew!
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